3096 Cedar Street, Apt. Unit #1

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My sister Aimee wearing "bunny boots", with Ranger













"Kids! You'll damage your eyes! But let me take some photos first."














A room with....a view....














Ranger (bestest dog ever!)














My mom and the mysterious "wall key"













My sister Aimee (in red) at the airstrip on the northern side of the Army base.













This used to be my playground.

Susan McKellar: "Penga Tar!"

We (Aldens & McKellars) were on a camping trip. If there were other people along with us - which is likely - I can't recall who they were. I'm not even sure where we were, but I'm certain that we were camping.

It was in the morning, and Doug, Susan and I were sitting in the McKellar's "Prowler" camper. I remember thinking the Prowler was a bit nicer and roomier than our camper, the "Taurus".

Doug and I were comparing sleeping quarters. I remember we were fascinated by the way you could sit around a small dining table inside the camper, enjoying a snack, and presto! The dining table would fold down and collapse, transforming into a plank bed onto which you'd throw some cushions and maybe a Coleman sleeping bag. It was like something out of a James Bond movie.

That's when Susan began to annoy Doug.

"Penga Tar!" Susan shrieked.

Nobody said a word.

I mean, I heard Susan, but I didn't really know what she meant. The folding table continued to hold my interest.

"Penga Tar! Penga Tar!"

To put it delicately, Susan was exuberant.

Doug sighed, but he said nothing. He pretended not to notice.

Susan acknowledged Doug's eye-rolling indifference and kicked things up a notch in accordance with sibling bylaws.

"Penga Tar! Peng Tar!"

Doug snapped. "Susan, ENOUGH ALREADY!!"

Doug made a brushing motion towards his sister, as if to shoo away a pesky mosquito.

Susan paid him no mind. In fact, I think the shooing motion merely encouraged her.

"Penga Tar! Penga Tarrrrr!"

Doug lost it.

"AAARRGH!"

In a fit of hilarious insanity, Doug started chasing Susan around the inside of the Prowler. Susan screamed and ran for the door and they both ended up outside.

I couldn't make heads or tails out of any of this. So I stepped outside to see if I could figure out what the heck was going on.

"Um, what's she saying, Doug?"

"She's saying playing guitar, playing guitar... and it drives me nuts!"

Susan did a little dance in her pajamas while gesturing with her hands, strumming on invisible strings.

"Penga Tar....Penga Tar..."

I thought it was adorable.

Douglas was positively volcanic.

Campin'

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Left to right: Not sure who the two kids (partially seen on the far left) are. Followed by my Mom, Nora McKellar, Susan McKellar (roasting marshmallows) and Fred McKellar.














Same group, but it looks like Linda Payne has joined the party!















I'm not sure who some of these people are. I do recognize Lee Payne sitting in the chair, however - along with Susan, Nora, my Mom, Linda Payne and Ranger.














My Mom at camp. Not sure whose Red Dale rig that is. The tent was ours, before we got our camper.














A closer view and Ranger, too!














The beginning of a new adventure. Not our truck. Noble's, maybe?














Nora McKellar and my Mom (Penny)














Nora McKellar rubbing lotion on someone's foot. Mosquito dope, maybe? I think that's Linda Payne on the right (in profile)














A picnic at the Salcha River with Jim and Michelle Ozimkoski, I believe.













Another view.














Goofy exposure here, but that's our Dodge Ramcharger in front of our Taurus camper, with the McKellar's Prowler camper next to it. My Dad traded in for the Ramcharger after arriving in Alaska in 1974 with a Dodge Scamp, a small car which was deemed "unfit" for the wilds of Alaska. Note the "bay window" on the rear half of the Ramcharger. That was actually quite nice as you could take in a lot of scenery in the back seat!














Poor Ranger. Towards the end, he was up to five packs of Marlboros a day.

Greg McKellar & The Fungus Bucket Incident

There were some interesting "folk art" hobbies which were - and undoubtedly still are - popular among many Alaskan residents.

Painting goldpans, for example. (Some people took this a step further and added clock hands on the front of the pan and a small battery powered gearbox on the back). These creations adorned many a wall in Alaskan homes.












And then there was the Fungus Movement, in which the artist would collect the fungi which grew on birch trees in order to paint colorful scenes on them:











Not just any fungus would do, however. For painting and display, the ideal fungus needed to have a smooth, flat surface for the "face" which was to be painted, and the fungus also had to be shaped in such a way that it could stand upright on a desk, shelf or mantle. The perfect fungus didn't grow on trees, you know! Well, actually...it did. You know what I mean. The perfect "painting fungus" could be hard to find.

And that is why Mrs. McKellar (Nora) sent Greg off into the woods near the Chatanika River with a large bucket during one of our camping trips. Greg was to collect a bunch of fungi from the area birch trees and bring them back to his mother, who would choose the ideal "candidates".

Looking back, Greg and his younger sibling Doug might well have been the inspiration for Bart Simpson. Using a brand new Xerox machine in an office building near their home on the north end of Ft. Wainwright (without permission, naturally) the McKellar brothers Xeroxed their bare butts before anyone gave them the idea that one could use a photocopier for that purpose. That's ingenuity, man! And that's the mildest stunt they pulled in my presence. I won't even write about some of the others.

Back to Greg with his bucket in the birch trees around the Chatanika River. Greg also took along a .22 rifle, which he liked to shoulder when he went off into the woods. Being a few years older than Doug and I, Greg was allowed to do this. He picked off a squirrel with the .22 and placed its bloody corpse in the bottom of the bucket. A bunch of fungi were placed on top of that. Greg then took the bucket back to his unsuspecting mother, who awaited her son's fungal harvest while socializing in the family camper.

Nora looked forward to sorting through the fungi that her son had so thoughtfully gathered for her. Fungus by fungus, Nora evaluated each piece.

45+ years later, I can still hear the scream that reverberated throughout the confines of that camper when Mrs. McKellar unknowingly uncovered the bloodied rodent corpse at the bottom of that bucket.

It was a scream followed by laughter.

Nora was a good sport and even though I was a child she always struck me as a gregarious fun-loving person.

With two boys like Greg and Doug, I imagine her naturally positive disposition helped her a great deal in coping with two such monsters.

Fishin' II: Homer, AK

NOTE: Unfortunately, this fishing trip didn't involve either the McKellars or the Nobles. Still a good time, though. It was a charter fishing trip to Homer, Alaska in 1977 with my dad, myself, and a couple of doctor friends, also from Bassett Army Hospital (Ft. Wainwright). We fished rivers and lakes (summer and winter) and now it was time to try out the open ocean!

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Homer harbor














The docs are demonstrating the medicinal benefits of Olympia Beer. It's the water, boys. And a lot more!














We're ready to give them fishies hell! But first, hot dogs.














Our backup plan in case we didn't catch any fish? Or a reflection of my mood at the time because I had to wear those pants?













Homer Spit. Yep, that's what the area is called.














Searching for messages in bottles and Skull Mountain. Turns out the docs played a little prank on me...there is no Skull Mountain.
Dammit.

Youth Hockey Days: Scouts

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The original Hanson Bros?















The Scouts!















Scouts team photo #2. Darren Noble is there, as well as Randy Parsons (red helmet, top row) and my dad as coach. Was Doug McKellar sick that day? I don't see him here.















The Scouts dressing room. Reporters and ladies will kindly wait outside for autographs. The redheaded kid was named Ricky. He already looks like a hockey player with that toothless smile!



















Article dated November 28, 1975 from the Yukon Sentinel, a paper based on Ft. Wainwright which was included with the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner on Fridays.







Note the excerpt above (click to enlarge). I scored in the 1st period but it was Tommy Howell and Darren Noble who saved the day! PS - the reporter cracks me up. "Ice breaking action..." gotta love it!















Scouts take the ice for a practice session















I wore my favorite number, 11, during my first year with the Scouts. The next year I wore #21 to honor my hockey hero, Gil Perrault, a French Canadian who played for the Buffalo Sabres. When I moved on to the Hawks in the next division, I wanted to go back to #11, because it was my "personal" number, but I had to wear #8 because the person who purchased our jerseys goofed and didn't order #11. I wasn't happy, but that's life.

Youth Hockey Days: Hawks

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Not a bad team here. Randy Parsons was the captain, and the assistant captain was named John (I think). The goalie, Nelson Cornish, was incredible. My Dad thought Nelson was the best goalie in the Fairbanks area. Half of this team formed the nucleus of an Alaskan All-Star team for our division, and we went on to play at the Alaska-Canada Tournament in Anchorage where we did quite well when we played against the other Alaskan teams.

Then we played Whitehorse, Canada in our final match, and those kids from the Yukon Territories really took us to school! It wasn't a blowout; I think the final score was 3-1 against us, but we returned to Fairbanks with the realization that there's a bigger world out there.

PS - if my hair was any longer in this photo, I'd look a little like Garth from "Wayne's World". I'm wearing #8 in these photos because I couldn't wear my beloved #11 due to a "management problem". (Ordering the wrong jerseys!)

PS - The cutoff temperature for these outdoor games was -35 degrees. Which means if the temperature was -32 degrees, you're still playing. The little kids got to play on the warmer indoor ice most of the time. As you got older, your butt was sent outside!

3 Things That Were Cool (To Me)

Colonel Steve Austin....a man barely alive.....we can rebuild him.....we have the technology...! And when Bigfoot made an appearance on the Six Million Dollar Man, well...I thought that was WAY cool. (See "Four Things That Gave Me Nightmares")














My dog Ranger













My first pocket knife, pictured here and which I still have. It was given to me on my 9th birthday, and one of the kids (can't remember his name) at the party slipped the knife into his pocket and went home with it! My mom had to call each of the parents to figure out who the culprit was, and the knife was returned.